


The Turning of the Wheel

by pasiphile



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile
Summary: The bullet hits two inches lower, and suddenly Tara has a relationship to rebuild.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saraste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/gifts).



> This turned out a bit less fluffy than initially planned, but on the other hand I'm always of the opinion that fluff feels all the sweeter if there's a bit of angst before it. I hope I didn't overdo it, though.

  1. **Ostara**



_Beep. Beep_.

Pain. Numbed. Cold.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Voices, muffled. A touch. A sting. More pain.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Fingers around hers, a voice, louder than the others,  _baby I’m here, you’re okay, please wake up, please –_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

-  _I’ll kill them destroy them tear the world apart give her back to me give her back how dare how dare you hurt her how dare you touch what’s mine I’ll rip you apart kill hurt destroy maim –_

_Beep._

***

Tara woke up slowly.

It was like swimming. More the ocean than a swimming pool, wild and wavy, making your way up, seeing the surface above, wavering and see-through and not-quite-real, until you breach the surface and –

The beeping of hospital equipment. The smell of hospitals too, sharp and unfamiliar. A soft bed, crisp sheets that rustled as she moved, and her hand –

Soft fingers, curled around hers.

Tara opened her eyes.

Willow was sitting in a chair next to the bed, loosely holding Tara’s hand. She was asleep, eyes closed, slumped in what must be an uncomfortable position. She was going to get a crick in her neck like that.

It seemed important that she knew that.

“Sweetie?”

Tara’s voice cracked, too soft, too painful, too dry. Willow moved in her sleep but didn’t wake up. Her fingers briefly tightened around Tara’s and –

-  _I’ll make them hurt like they hurt her kill them make them pay make them –_

Tara yanked her hand back, breathing hard.

Willow startled awake. She blinked, focused on Tara, and her face lit up in a huge smile. “Tara! You’re awake!”

Tara stared at her. The  - the  _bloodlust_ , there was no other word for it, was still coursing through her veins, speeding up the continuous beeping of the machinery.

\- _kill I’ll kill them I’ll kill them I’ll -_

“Baby?” Willow frowned. “Are you okay?”

Tara took a deep breath. The feelings, whatever they were, were fading. Instead she just felt Willow’s concern, her love, her worry, her fear.

But beneath that…

She shook off the thoughts and tried to smile. “I’m okay,” she said, in the same cracked, dry, broken voice. “Wh – what happened?”

-  _Kill I’ll kill them I’ll kill –_

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re okay again.” Willow smiled again, broad and bright and breaking around the edges.

Tara closed her eyes again. “That’s good,” she said, and let herself drift off to sleep again.

***

It took two weeks before she was discharged from hospital. Willow stayed at Tara’s side loyal like a wolfhound, hardly ever leaving her out of her sight. It was comforting, but also…

Buffy noticed. More than once Tara saw her looking at Willow, a small frown on her face. But if they’d talked about it, Tara hadn’t seen any results. Willow still stuck to her side, full of helpful care. Tara vaguely remembered her doing something like that after Glory had taken Tara’s mind, but that was blurred, distorted by the madness. This was… was different.

“Hi baby!”

Tara looked up and forced herself to smile. “Willow.”

Willow put down a tray. “I’ve got food! Pancakes, which are, uh, not as nice as you make ‘em but I suspect they’re still, y’know, nommy. And orange juice, fresh, for your blood sugar, and herbal tea and – ”

“Willow.” Tara smiled. “Thank you.”

Willow gave her another of those brittle smiles. “Are you sure you’ve got everything you need?”

“Yes,” Tara said firmly. “I’ve got everything. More than that. Willow, I’m fine.”

“You are now.” Willow’s smile wavered. She reached for Tara’s hand.

The memories came back full force –  _pain exploding in her stomach and Willow’s face and I’ll kill them make them pay kill –_ and before she even realised she’d snatched her hand away.

Hurt crossed Willow’s eyes. She looked down, took a shivering breath. “You’re – you’re still recovering,” she said. “I understand.”

“Yeah,” Tara said, throat dry.

“It’s, uh, I’ll – I’ll give you some alone time? Yeah?” Willow got up, and added, with a forced smile, “You finish that plate, okay?”

She left. Tara watched her go, part of her aching with the loss of her, wanting to call her back and hold her close, but another part –

Another part of her breathed in relief that Willow was safely away.

Tara closed her eyes.

This couldn’t go on.

***

“We need to talk.”

Those dreadful words. She could see them hit, in Willow’s expression, and she could see Willow deny the implications. “Sure. What about, baby?”

“Us.” Tara took a deep breath. “It isn’t working.”

Willow’s façade dropped. There was the pain, and the fear. The desperation. “Tara, we just need – need some time. Do you want to go slower? I know we didn’t – we didn’t get a chance to talk things out before you -  but we can, we can go slow, just tell me – ”

“It isn’t that.” Tara briefly closed her eyes. Every instinct inside her was screaming to go to Willow, take her in her arms, assure her that everything was going to be okay.

But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to be true to herself.

“I think – I think maybe we rushed into things,” Willow said quickly. “Like you said, we need to – need to talk first, build trust again, and I can do that, Tara, baby, I swear I can – ”

“It’s not that,” Tara said again.

“Then what? Tell me what I can do to make it better and I – ”

“I felt what you felt.”

Willow paused mid-sentence. “What?” she asked, a dreadful edge of realisation in her voice.

“When I was in hospital. When I – When I nearly died. I felt what you were feeling.”

“I – I – I was just scared, Tara. Anyone would have – ”

“You wanted to kill them.”

Willow fell silent again. She looked dreadful, pale and miserable.

“You wanted to hurt them, kill them, and – and I think not even that would have been enough. You could’ve torn apart the whole world.”

“I was scared,” Willow said, in a very small voice. “I would never – ”

“And if that bullet had gone in a few inches higher?”

Willow stayed silent, but even now Tara could feel the wave of sudden murderous rage, fear and panic all mingling until there was only one purpose, that to hurt.

“With your power, Willow…” Tara shook her head. “You scared me.”

“I wasn’t – I wasn’t going to…”

“If they’d killed me?”

Willow stayed silent for a few moments. Then she said, quiet and dark, “They would’ve deserved it.”

Tara sighed and closed her eyes. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”

“Tara, they – they were murderers! Don’t tell me – ”

“All life is sacred.”

“So is yours!”

“Willow, it’s not – ” Tara broke off. Willow’s eyes were brimming with tears, and Tara could feel that hot tightness behind her eyes that meant she wasn’t far from crying either, and she didn’t know how to make it better. “You scared me,” she said. “Your power, and that anger… You scared me, Willow. You still scare me.”

“I promise I’ll be careful in the future, that I won’t – ”

“It’s – it’s not…” Tara looked away. “Destruction and anger are part of – part of life, part of the Goddess. She has a dark side and I know that, I see that, but I don’t think I can accept it yet. I look at you now and – ” She peeked up. “All I see is bloodshed.”

Willow was crying in earnest now. “I’ll work on it. Somehow, I’ll find away, just don’t – ”

“It’s as much me as you, Willow,” Tara said, fighting back the tears. “I can’t accept this, not yet, I can’t, and I can’t work on that if you’re close to me, if you – if you scare me. If we’re – ”

“Tara, baby, please, don’t do this to me. Not again, please don’t do this to me again, please don’t – ”

Tara’s heart broke. It took everything she had to keep her resolve.

“I think – ” Deep breath, don’t look at Willow’s tears, don’t feel her panic, “I think we need to break up.”

 

  1. **Litha**



 

The grass underneath her. The wind in her face, the sun warming her hair. Birds twittering, and somewhere far away two girls’ voices arguing about something. Don’t lock it out, don’t ignore it, just let it happen.

Tara let her consciousness seek deeper into the ground. The roots of the trees, the layers of earth…

“Hey.”

She opened her eyes. Willow was standing in front of her, looking sheepish. “Can I – can I join you? I mean, only if you don’t mind, I can – ”

“It’s okay,” Tara said, with a smile. “Sit down.”

Willow sat down cross-legged across from Tara. Tara closed her eyes again, diving back into the feeling of unity with the world, of calm and serenity. Birds and bees humming, butterflies leaving trails in the wind, Willow’s calm breathing, regular, her heartbeat, her mind –

Tara opened one eye. “Not really working?”

“Sorry,” Willow said with an awkward smile. “Still haven’t worked out this whole – this whole peace of mind thing. Giles said I need to stop thinking.”

“I think Giles is right,” Tara said, with half a smile.

“Yeah, well, easier said than done.” Willow looked down, bit her lip. “You were always so much better at this.”

“Do you want me to help you?”

It was out before she could stop it, and Willow looked up in surprise.

They’d been dancing around each other ever since Willow had come back from England. So careful, so gentle, so alert to any sign of discomfort. They acted like estranged family, or old friends who’d grown apart. Affection was still there, but they both made sure not to take it for granted anymore.

And now Tara had offered this.

“I, uh, sure? If you don’t mind?”

Tara held out her hands. For a moment the painstakingly collected peace inside of her seemed to waver, shatter, because that was Willow, Willow’s hands taking hers, Willow’s mind aligning itself with hers, and –

\- and it was okay. Willow was Willow, and Tara still loved her, and even if it wasn’t like it used to be anymore that didn’t change her feelings. She breathed out, feeling her calm restabilise itself.

Then she pulled Willow in.

Time seemed to disappear. There was just this, this endless peace. The world spread around them and the sky above, the earth below, life inbetween, and they were just one tiny part of that. Insignificance, except it felt more comforting than threatening.

Peace.

After what seemed like an eternity, she let go of Willow’s hands and opened her eyes. Willow was blinking into the sunlight, expression awed.

Tara ducked her head, trying to catch her eye. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Willow blinked again, then smiled, as if in wonder. “That was – I really felt it. It went so – so deep, I’ve never really felt it like that before.”

“It, um, takes practice?” Tara said. “It gets easier. I’ve been doing this since I was five, I think that gives me a, y’know, head start.”

“Yeah.” Willow stretched, then changed position, tucking her legs underneath her. “Guess you needed some peace, huh?”

“The house is, uh, pretty busy, yeah.”

They shared a smile.

“I think you’re doing great with them, though,” Willow said. “Like you’re their second mom.”

“It feels a little like – like I’ve suddenly gained like a dozen children, yeah.” Tara looked down at the grass and smiled. “They’re nice. They’re just a little – a little too much, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Willow said with a goofy smile. “I’m this close to just – zapping them all into frogs, you know?”

Tara’s smile faded.

“That was, um, a joke,” Willow said hurriedly. “An – an obviously bad one. Sorry. I wouldn’t actually change them into frogs.”

“I know, Willow.” Tara gave her a tired smile. “How are you doing?”

“Good. I think. Still have a little trouble sleeping but Kennedy’s – ” She broke off.

“It’s, uh, it’s okay,” Tara said, blushing a little. “I know you two are – I’m happy for you. For both of you.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Willow asked nervously. “I know it’s – and I wasn’t planning for it, it just sorta happened.”

“Does she make you happy?” Tara asked.

“Not like you did.”

Silence.

Willow shook her head. “Sorry. No, it’s just – it’s different. She’s different. I’m different too, I think? It’s still all very – very new. I don’t want to – ”

“Rush into anything?”

Willow blushed. She pulled at the grass. “It’s – it’s confusing, you know. Part of me sees you and still wants to – wants to stay with you and kiss you hello and hold you.”

“And the other part?” Tara prompted gently.

“The other part doesn’t want to see you scared of me.” Willow peeked up at her. “I think – I think I still kinda hope that someday I might get to a place and, and you get to a place, where we can… You know?”

“And until then, Kennedy will do?” Tara asked, sharper than she had intended.

Willow shook her head. “It’s not like that. I like Kennedy, I really do. I like being with her. I like – I like who I am when I’m with her.”

“And you don’t like who you are when you’re with me,” Tara said, fighting against the pain. This was good. Honesty was good. And pain, well, that just meant it was real.

“No.”

They looked at each other.

“You’ll always be special to me, you know,” Willow said, with that small private shy smile that had made Tara fall in love with her. “No matter what happens. You’re always special to me.”

“I know.”

They stayed where they were for a few moments, listening to the leaves rustle, the birds singing.

Then Tara got up. “I, uh, should get inside, start making breakfast.”

“They can make their own breakfast, you know.”

“And have another fistfight over the jam? It’s fine, I don’t – I don’t mind doing it, actually. Makes me feel helpful.”

“You  _are_ helpful.” Willow got up. “Without you we would have had a civil war going on inside the house by now.”

“Yeah, uh, let’s, um, let’s try to prevent that from happening now too, huh?”

***

The pan hissed as a dollop of batter fell onto it. Tara expertly tilted the pan, spreading the batter around, then put the pan back on the fire. She stretched, lazily, then looked at the dining room.

It was already filling up. Buffy was milling around with Faith, neither of them talking but obviously aware of each other. Willow was on the other side of the room, trying to keep an eye on Buffy and on three of the Potentials who were hanging around the living room. Kennedy was just coming down the stairs. She made a beeline for Willow, then snagged Willow by the back of her waistband and pulled her around and into a kiss.

Tara looked down at her pan. It hurt, of course it hurt, but it was also – it was  _good_ to see Willow be happy again. Kennedy was so different, yet obviously good for her.

Willow deserved some happiness.

“Ooh, pancakes.” Dawn popped up at her shoulder. “Do you mind if I…”

“Oh, no, please, take ‘em.” Tara shoved a plate of a pancakes at Dawn. “Before they get cold. And try to get as many of the girls to eat along with you, okay?”

“Yum.” Dawn picked up the plate with a broad grin. Then she tilted her head. “Don’t you wanna come?”

“No, I’ve still got this batch to make. I’m, um…” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave Dawn a crooked smile. “I’m fine in the kitchen.”

“Okay. Just don’t stay here all alone all the time, yeah?” Dawn bumped her shoulder into Tara’s, then took off to the kitchen, humming something that sounded suspiciously like  _pancakes pancakes yummy pancakes_.

Tara shook her head and got back to her pan, keeping one eye on the sounds coming from the dining room.

It felt comforting, being here, on her own, with the sounds of domesticity coming from somewhere near. Buffy would probably berate her for being isolated, but she was too busy with resocialising Faith, no time to spare for Tara.

Not that she minded. It was hard to explain, but it didn’t feel – it didn’t feel bad, the way other things sometimes did, other bad habits. This…

It felt safe.

She flipped a pancake and grinned when it landed smack-bang in the middle of the pan.

Then whirled in surprise when someone started clapping.

“Impressive,” Kennedy said, with a grin. “Don’t need Slayer reflexes to do that, huh?”

“I – I don’t think that Slayer reflexes are, uh, really meant for this kind of thing?”

“Yeah, maybe. More stakin’, less flippin’.” Kennedy leaned her hip against the counter, arms crossed, grin fading a little. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Tara looked down at the pancake. “Is – is it about Willow?”

“Yeah. I, uh, saw you together this morning.”

Tara peeked up through her hair at Kennedy. She didn’t seem very angry, or upset.

“I suppose this is where I should give you a  _get away from my girl_  speech, huh?” Kennedy said, with a wry smile.

“I, uh, I don’t know?” Tara nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.

“She still loves you, you know.”

Tara nodded.

“And you love her, right? I see the way you look at her.”

“I do. But, Kennedy, it’s not like that. You can – you can love someone and still not want to be with them.”

“And you don’t want to be with her?”

Tara shrugged, awkwardly. “Kinda, yeah. But I can’t. Not if – I can’t be with her and be true to myself at the same time.”

Kennedy nodded slowly. “I get it. I’m impressed, actually. Can’t have been an easy decision to make.”

“No,” Tara said, half laughing with the understatement. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Yeah. So, uh…” Kennedy pulled a face. “Honestly? I would be more comfortable if you two didn’t hang out.”

“Oh,” Tara said, with a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

“But I’m not gonna ask that from you. I  _can’t_ ask that. I don’t even want to ask that, really. I guess I just have to get used to it, suck it up. But what I wanted to ask…”

“Yeah?” Tara asked meekly.

“I don’t know, this is gonna sound weird, but do – do we have your, your blessing? Do you think I’m good for her?”

Tara blinked, completely thrown. “What?”

“Look, Willow is – amazing,” Kennedy said, and there was a sort of faraway, blissful look on her face that made Tara – oddly enough, that made her feel happy for Willow, rather than jealous or sad. “But sometimes I feel like – like I’m not… I don’t always know if I’m doing good, you know?” She chewed her lip. “You were the big love of her life, you know, and I’m  - well, I’m obviously not you, we’re very different, and sometimes I think I’m just a rebound.”

“I used to think the same.”

“What?” Kennedy frowned.

“Oz. She told you about Oz, right?”

Kennedy nodded.

“They – They’d gone through so much together. He was Willow’s first – first love. They fought an Apocalypse together. And I just… Compared to that, what we had was pretty insignificant. That’s what I thought, anyway. And, uh, and Willow…” Tara shrugged. “It just took me a while. To – to see that what we had wasn’t better, or less, just different. B- but equally meaningful.”

Kennedy stayed quiet.

Tara quietly slid the pancake onto a plate. It was slightly burnt around the edges.

“You know,” Kennedy said slowly, “I’m starting to see why Willow fell in love with you.”

“Oh. Uh…” Tara swallowed, gave Kennedy a shy smile. “I – I didn’t – ”

“No, I know, it’s cool.” Kennedy sighed, then turned around, eyes on the dining room. “Thanks.”

Tara turned off the stove, wiped her hands, and came to join Kennedy. Willow was in the dining room, desperately trying to calm down four unruly teenagers.

“I honestly wish you all the best,” Tara said softly.

“Yeah.”

Kennedy pushed off and swaggered into the room. With one well-placed word she shot down the bickering girls, and then she plopped herself onto Willow’s lap and kissed her. Willow looked delighted.

Another small twinge. Tara looked down.

That twinge would never really go away, she knew that. But it didn’t have to. It was a memory of everything she’d had, and that was something she’d never want to lose. No matter the price.

She sighed and went back to the stove.

 

 

  1. **Mabon**



The wind whipped Tara’s hair into her face.

She dug into her pockets for a scrunchie to tie it back. Her hands were freezing, and thank the gods she’d taken her thickest coat.

Poor Willow. She’d always been a California girl through and through. Scandinavian weather must have been a big shock for her.

Tara shoved her hat back on, thrust her hands in her pockets, and descended down the hill. The cottage the coordinates on her phone had led her to was hunched in the valley, sheltered from wind, next to a small stream. There was a reason for the isolated location, something to do with ley lines and a nearby old temple, but Tara wondered how both Willow and the young Slayers in her care were taking it. Of course, secrecy was easier if you didn’t have nosy neighbours, but it couldn't be easy being all on your own.

Tara went down the path to the door and knocked. She bounced on her heels, nerves rising.

It had been a while since she’d last seen Willow.

The door opened. A young blonde girl gave her a suspicious look. One of her hands was behind her back. “Who are you?” she asked, with an unidentifiable accent.

“Tara. I’m a friend of Willow’s. D- didn’t she say I was coming?”

“Maybe,” the girl said, still obviously suspicious.

“So, uh, can I come in?”

“Do you need an invitation?”

“Only because of p- politeness.” Tara placed her foot across the threshold. “See? No danger.”

“Not all demons need an invitation.” The girl pulled her hand from behind her back and revealed a huge axe.

“I, uh – ” Tara stammered, panicky. “I just – ”

“Brigitte! Jeesh, I told you to ease up on the violence!” Willow darted suddenly into the hallway and pulled the girl bodily away from Tara. “It’s fine, Tara’s a friend. No stabby, okay?”

“ _Fine_ ,” the girl said with an explosive sigh. She trudged off like a child just denied a treat, muttering darkly under her breath.

Willow watched her go, shaking her head in exasperation.

Tara smiled. “Spirited little thing, huh?”

“Slayers,” Willow said. “I love ‘em, but sometimes I worry.” She turned to Tara and grinned widely. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Tara moved in and hugged Willow.

It still felt like coming home.

Willow let her go and waved her in. “So, uh, Buffy called to say you were coming but she didn’t really give any details.”

“There’s an artefact, unearthed not that long ago.” Tara followed Willow down the small hallway into a cosy living room. “It got in the hands of a demon gang.”

“Lemme guess,” Willow said, with a quick smile and a look over her shoulder. “They wanna end the world with it?”

“Demons, huh? Never big on the originality.” At another wave of Willow’s hand she sat down on the sofa. “Anyway. There’s a matching gemstone that’s supposed to lead you to the artefact, which is why I’m here. I’m, uh, kinda the delivery girl.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s great to see you again.”

They smiled at each other.

“So, uh, this demon thing, is it urgent?” Willow asked.

“The stone only works at night, after the sun goes down,” Tara said.

“Oh, so we don’t have to wait long, then.”

“I’m – what?” Tara checked her watch, feeling thoroughly confused. “Okay, I know I still have jetlag but it’s only three in the afternoon, right?”

“Scandinavia,” Willow said, with an impish smile. “Basically an amusement park for creepy-crawlies. Not in the summer, though, the days can get pretty long then.”

“Not much, uh, funtime then?” Tara suggested, with half a smile.

“Nope. Makes you wonder if they migrate, like birds. Whole flocks of vampires crossing the Baltic Sea during fall…” Willow dimpled, then shook her head. “Sorry, I’m being silly. How are you?”

“Oh, uh, good? I’ve been doing a lot of travelling, helping Buffy out with the international Slayer recruitment thing. It’s, uh, interesting. And you?” she added.

“Birgitte and Katrina are pretty nice, yeah. But… I don’t know.” Willow shrugged. “They’re young, you know? Sometimes it feels a bit lonely…”

A brief silence fell.

“Was it a bad breakup?” Tara asked carefully.

“Oh, you know, it was – pretty okay, I guess? I still wasn’t fun, you know, it’s still a breakup. But it’s, uh, definitely in my top three of breakups.”

Another silence. Tara fidgeted, painfully aware of the way Willow was looking at her.

They’d found a balance, of sorts. It had been awkward and weird and occasionally a bit painful but they’d found a way to be around each other, as friends, as fellow witches.

So why did it feel like that balance was starting to wobble again?

Tara sighed and ran her hand through her hair. Willow immediately sat up. “Oh, I’m sorry, here I am talking away and you must have only just come from the airport! Come on, let me show you the guestroom.”

Tara followed Willow down the hallway, grateful for the distraction. “I don’t have to share with, uh, the Slayers, do I?”

“No, they’ve each got their own room.” Willow shot a smile at Tara. “Before we got this place we were staying in a one-bedroom flat in Stockholm, and lemme tell you… Honestly – I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re great, but…”

“Beats having a whole house full of ‘em, though.”

Willow pulled a sympathetic face. “How’s Buffy holding up with that?”

“Oh, you know. She’s Buffy.”

“Yeah.” Willow opened a door. “Here we are. If there’s anything you need…”

“Yep, thanks.” Tara tucked her hair behind her ears and turned, facing Willow. Something inside her melted a little. “It is good to see you, you know,” she said softly.

Willow beamed, then – carefully, gently – moved in for a hug. Tara wrapped her arms around Willow’s slim back and squeezed.

Then she forced herself to let go. “Okay. Showertime.” She crinkled her nose. “ _Definitely_ showertime, sorry.”

“Knock yourself out. I’ll come get you when we’re ready to leave.” Willow started closing the door, then paused. “Tara?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m – I’m very happy to see you again.”

But before Tara could answer, Willow had closed the door.

***

It had started to rain.

It was near midnight, and the moon was full, Tara could feel its pull on her blood even if she couldn’t actually see its light through the thick black clouds.

The fight was messy. The girls had thrown themselves head-first into it, and Willow was up on a nearby rock, giving them telepathic orders. Meanwhile Tara had found an easily-defendable place and a big axe and had taken up position there, watching the fight from afar and hoping that no demon would decide to go wandering. She knew her skills, she knew her strengths, and fighting wasn’t one of them.

The demons were dark-skinned and ridged, tall and burly. The two Slayers didn’t seem to have much problem dispatching them, although one or two times Tara had held her breath when one of the girls had been grabbed. But they’d fought them off.

Tara worriedly eyed the glowing stone at the centre of the clearing. The demons were frantically protecting it, neither the girls nor Willow had come close to it. Would they know how to unlock its powers? Unlikely, or they would’ve used it by now, but…

She bit her lip. Then she started to creep sideways, whispering spells of illusion and glamour under her breath. The demons didn’t seem to notice her as she snuck past them. They were focused on the Slayers, on Willow, with their back to her.

She took a deep breath, dodged past another demon and approached the pedestal with the stone. She reached out.

The moment her fingers touched the oddly warm surface, bright light flared and lashed out everywhere, like an ethereal geyser.

No glamour spell could go up against that.

The Slayers took advantage of the demons’ surprise to finish them off, but there was a third one, who turned to Tara with its face twisted in fury and it raised its sword and –

Lightning crackled down, striking the demon in the middle of his back. He crumpled down. The lightning flashed again, once, twice, then disappeared. A small trail of black smoke was coming off the fallen body.

Tara took a huge gulping breath.

“Tara! You okay?”

“Fine!” she yelled. “I’m fine, and the stone’s fine too.”

“Sure?” Willow jumped down from her stone and ran up to the clearing. “Girls, start collecting the bodies! We need to burn them before they regenerate.”

Brigitte groaned, but obeyed, as did Katrina. Willow came over to Tara. Lightning flashed, this time undirected by either of them.

“I – I didn’t know you could do elemental magic,” Tara said weakly. “You – you always had trouble with that, remember?”

“Unity with nature, yeah.” Willow reached out for Tara’s hand, then stopped herself. “Are – are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Tara managed a shaky smile. “You got him before he could do anything.”

“No, I meant – with me.”

“Oh.”

Tara looked down at the smouldering demon corpse. The violence had shocked her, sure, she still wasn’t used to it. And the _power_ of it, gods. But –

But weirdly, when she thought back on it, what she’d felt was more like triumph.

Tara shook her head. “I think I’m okay, actually.”

“Really?”

Tara nodded. She’d need to examine that later, meditate over it, but –

But whatever she’d felt, it was different than it used to be.

“Let’s help them out,” Tara said.

“Yeah, sure.” Willow frowned at Tara, then took off.

She dragged the bodies just like the Slayers did, Tara couldn’t help but notice, without any magical assistance. But when they’d all been piled up, the spark that ignited the pyre came from Willow’s fingertips, nor a lighter.

***

By the time they got back, Tara was freezing.

She left the others behind and immediately went to her private bathroom. She took a shower – the demon blood took three rinses before it was all gone – then slipped into her comfiest pajamas. Her jetlag was messing with her rhythm, she still felt wide awake. So she settled on the bed with a book.

After a while, a small knock came at her door. “Come in?”

Willow carefully edged in. “Hi. Not asleep?”

“Nope. Still running on Boston hours.” She put her book away. “Artefact despatched?”

“Yup. Safely tucked away, not apocalypsing anytime soon.” Willow edged closer to the bed. “Uh, can I…?”

“Sure,” Tara said, butterflies taking off in her stomach.

Willow sat down, close to where Tara’s hand had been resting. Tara could feel the heat of her body, smell the shampoo and soap on her. It was a bit overwhelming.

“I, uh. About that lightning spell I did,” Willow started, hesitantly.

“Willow, it’s – ”

“I know it’s the kind of destructive magic that isn’t – that I shouldn’t – but I can’t ignore what I can do, Tara, and I can’t not use it, not if that means leaving people in danger.”

“Willow, it’s okay. You saved my life.”

“I know, but the way I did…” She sighed. “I don’t have a choice, I know that, and I guess you do too but it’s still going to scare you, isn’t it?”

“I… I don’t know. Of course that sort of thing is scary, but…”

Willow looked at her, wide-eyed. “But what?”

“It’s – it just is.”

Willow stayed silent. She didn’t look very happy.

“Willow?”

She didn’t reply.

“Is – is something – ”

“I need to know,” Willow blurted. She looked up, eyes huge and shining.

“Need to know what, Willow?” Tara asked gently.

“I just needed to – I mean, I know what you said, and I will – I will respect your decision, Tara, please believe that. But I need to know… After Kennedy, I started thinking of you again, and I tried to stop but I couldn’t, not when I didn’t  - So, so, can you tell me? If there’s – not now, of course, I get that, but if there’s a chance that maybe, in the future, if you – ”

“You’re babbling,” Tara said gently.

“I know. I’m, uh, I’m nervous.” She looked down, hands on the coverlet. “Do you – Tara, do you think we could ever be together again?”

Tara’s heart soared.

“Oh, Willow…” She blinked away a tear.

“Tara?” Willow’s eyes went wide.

She couldn’t manage the words. She’d never been good with words. Instead, she just put her hand on Wllow’s cheek and leaned close and kissed her.

It felt more right than anything had it in a long while.

They broke off simultaneously. Willow leaned her forehead against Tara’s.

“Slow,” Willow murmured. “This time, we go slow, okay? Take time to – to build trust again.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” Tara ran her hand over Willow’s hair. “Willow?”

“Yes?” She looked up, eyes sad and happy and scared all at once.

Tara smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

  1. **Yule**



 

“Oh good, you’re, here, finally!”

Buffy pulled Tara in a hug. She must be distracted, because she seemed to have forgotten that Tara was, in fact, just a normal human, without any super strength to protect her from a Slayer’s arms.

“Erk,” Tara said.

Buffy quickly let go. “Oh, jeesh, sorry. I’ve been dealing with superpowered teenagers for way too long.” She beamed. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“Me too,” Tara said, with a smile. “So, uh, is Willow…”

“’Round the back.” Buffy cocked her head. “So, are you guys…”

“We’re, uh, we’re working towards it,” Tara said.

“Really?” Buffy’s smile grew. “That’s so great. You know, you two… I mean, god knows I’ve had some wrecks of relationships but the way you were with Willow, and Willow was with you, that was… It seemed so good, you know?”

“Not always,” Tara said softly, and for a moment she smelled Lethe’s Bramble’s enticing scent again, felt the second-hand fury ride through her veins. She shook her head. “But when it works, you know…”

“Well, good. Go say hi.” Buffy smiled at Tara. Then she looked over Tara’s shoulder and her smile promptly disappeared. “ _Hey, you two!” –_  and she was off.

Tara made her way to the back. She was quiet about it, and when she peeked through the doorway she found Willow hadn’t noticed her yet. Tara leaned her shoulder against the doorway and watched, enjoying the stolen privacy.

Willow was trying to make pancakes, with emphasis on  _trying_. The entire counter and most of Willow’s apron were spattered with batter, and a plate on the side was piled with previous failed attempts, black and tattered.

“Need help?” Tara asked, trying to suppress her grin.

“Tara!” Willow’s entire face lit up.

“Hey, you.”

“I’d, uh, I’d come over and give you a hug, but…” Willow pulled a sheepish face and raised her flour-streaked hands.

“So, uh, I’ll just have to come over there, huh?”

Willow grinned. Tara came over to her and took Willow by the hips, pulled her close, head tilting… only to go upwards at the last moment and lick a spot of batter from Willow’s nose.

Willow groaned. “Tease.”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Need help?” Tara added, already reaching for the apron.

“Oh god, yes please,” Willow said, sounding deeply relieved. “I think I lost about half the batter already, and only one or two look edible.”

“Well, let’s see what we can salvage.” Tara went to the stove and plucked a spatula from Willow’s hands. Willow let her take over and went to the sink to wash her hands.

After a moment, she returned, squeezing against Tara’s back, arms around her waist. She nuzzled beneath Tara’s ears. “I’m glad to see you,” Willow said softly.

Tara closed her eyes and leaned back into Willow’s embrace. “Me too.”

***

The house, in one word, was _chaos_. Teenaged girls kept appearing everywhere. In the kitchen, dabbing fingers into the pancake batter; in the bathroom, fighting over shampoo; in the bedrooms, yelling at each other over clothes and makeup.

“Please tell me I don’t have to share with one of them,” Tara said, horrified as she watched two girls wrestle over a bead necklace.

“No. You’re, uh, sharing with Buffy and me.”

“Oh.”

“If – if that’s okay?” Willow added hurriedly. “If you’d rather sleep alone, I’m sure I can – ”

“No! No, I just thought we, uh, we’d have some privacy?” She gave Willow a shy smile.

“Oh.” Willow’s eyes went huge. “ _Oh_. I, uh, you want – ”

“But obviously not if you’d rather not,” Tara said, her turn to be quickly reassuring. “I mean, if – if you think it’s too soon, or – ”

“No! No, I’d love to – ” Willow broke off. She was actually blushing, the apples of her cheeks glowing pink. “I’d love to,” she said again, soft and warm, taking Tara’s hand in her own.

Tara smiled.

They’d been so careful. A little like they’d been after they’d broken up the second time – that same sense of walking a thin line, of constantly watching, of never assuming – but at the same time it felt so different. Like before, they were slowly redefining their relationship. Unlike before, the thought of the eventual end destination made butterflies take off in Tara’s stomach.

It had taken time, gods it had, but she felt safe with Willow now. Again. Or, maybe not _again_ , because it felt more complete now. She realised exactly what Willow was, what she could do.

But she also knew she was _Willow_ , and that had become a reassurance of its own.

Then Willow’s face fell. “I can’t kick Buffy out of the room, though, can I? We’re not in college anymore, I can’t just hang a sock from the doorknob and expect her to keep busy while I’m canoodling.”

“We could go outside?” Tara suggested hopefully.

They both looked through the window. The snow had stopped for the moment, but there was still a thick layer of it, completely obscuring the grass and reflecting the light in that odd ghost-like typically winter way.

“Or not,” Tara conceded.

Willow pulled a face. “Just our luck, huh?”

“Well, we’ve waited this long. I’m, uh, sure we can wait a little longer.” Tara rubbed her thumb over the back of Willow’s hand.

Willow groaned and tipped her head forward against Tara’s shoulder. “I don’t _wanna_ wait.”

“There there,” Tara said, giving Willow small pats on her back and struggling against a smile.

“Maybe we could just sneak off somewhere and – ”

“Hey! Lovebirds!”

They looked up at yet another girl – Tara had yet to successfully tell them apart – who was looking down at them with her hands on her hips. “Can you move? We’d like the couch, now.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Tara quickly got up and brushed off her skirt. “Sorry.”

The girl rolled her eyes and dropped down, joined by another one. Willow took Tara’s hand and tugged her along. “Come on, I’ll show you our magic room.”

***

When Tara opened her eyes, she was startled by how dark it had gotten.

Willow sat up and stretched. “Gosh, it’s later than I thought.”

“Time flies when you’re meditating.”

Willow reached for a candle, curled her fingers and lit the flame with a spark that seemed to come out of the air itself. “You know, I used to think all that talk about electrical equipment messing with your magic vibes was just baloney but – oh.” She bit her lip. “Sorry. I know you don’t like – ”

“Using magic for non-essential things?”

“Pretty much.” Willow shrugged, looking a little awkward. “It’s not – It’s just with the elemental magic, really. It just feels so natural to me? Like lighting a match is more – more damaging than just taking the heat out of the air. And it’s not like, y’know, I wouldn’t use the wind to make brooms sweep the floor or anything, it’s just the simple things – ”

“Willow.” Tara touched Willow’s hand. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Magic isn’t – ” Tara broke off, struggling with the words. “It’s all around us. It’s part of us. It makes sense using it, just not in a – a way that…”

“That disrespects it?”

“Yes,” Tara said, relieved. “That’s exactly it. But that’s a hard thing to explain. It’s something – something you gotta feel.”

Willow nodded, seriously. “I do. I do now. When I – when I used the Scythe. I could feel it. All of it. And now it just would feel wrong to ignore all that power, y’know?”

“I think I do. I mean, I don’t – I don’t have your level of power. But I feel it too.”

Willow leaned against Tara’s side. Tara put an arm around her.

“I was so scared, you know,” Willow murmured. “At first just scared of you disapproving of me. And then, it became – bigger. Scared of doing wrong, of harming.”

“ _An it harm none_ ,” Tara said softly.

“Yeah. But now, everything makes sense. Still, I wasn’t – wasn’t sure if you would see it the same way.”

“And what if I hadn’t?”

Willow pushed up, looking at Tara. “What?”

“If I hadn’t seen it that way. If I told you never to use magic unless there’s no other option, unless it’s life-or-death?”

Willow bit her lip, looking down, frowning. She took some time before she answered. “I think I…”

“Yes?”

“I think I would’ve disagreed. I…” Willow peeked up. “I have to go on what feels _good_ for me. What feels right. If I start ignoring that, then what can I rely on, you know? Sorry,” she added, sheepishly.

“No, Willow, that’s – ” Tara smiled broadly and pulled Willow back into her arms. “That’s good. That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

“Oh.”

They stayed like that for a while, watching the candle flicker. After a while Tara drew Willow close, kissed her.

Willow was so careful, so gentle. That was, until Tara gently pushed the tip of her tongue against the seam of Willow’s lips. Willow moaned loudly and her hold became more desperate, hands on Tara’s hair and waist suddenly becoming tighter, pulling her closer, kissing growing deeper –

_“Can’t you just for one night – ”_

_“I told you it was you, okay, I didn’t – ”_

They broke off. “Uh…?” Tara said.

“And that’s why we can’t stay here either,” Willow said, with a resolved expression. “No sound isolation.”

 “Hm. So maybe…” Tara glanced at the window. The snow glowed in the moonlight. “Maybe we could, if you, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“What, go outside? Now?”

“Well,” Tara said carefully, “you’ve always had a way with flames…”

Willow blinked. Then she grinned and got up. “Let’s steal some blankets from the living room first.”

***

Wrapped in glamour and illusion, Tara and Willow made their way to the garden. It bordered on a forest, the shadows of the trees casting patterns on the grass.

They’d stolen a few blankets from the living room and wrapped themselves in their thickest coats, and still it was far too cold to be even remotely comfortable. There was a fire basket near the end of the clearing, though. Tara heaped wood into it, caught up in the sensory memory of it, taken straight back to the fireplace at her old home, but –

No. Not now, and not here.

“There,” Tara said softly. Willow stepped in close and held her hands over the wood, eyes closed. For a moment, Tara could feel the air shiver around her. Then the wood burst into flames.

They huddled close together, letting the warmth of the fire wash over them. The thick blankets beneath them were protecting them from the snow a little.

“You’re sure?” Willow asked nervously. “I’m – I’m not pushing you into something, am I?”

“I’m sure,” Tara said. She ducked her head, tried to catch Willow’s eyes. “Are you?”

“ _God_ yes,” Willow blurted.

Tara smiled, then tried to be serious again. “No, but, really think about it. It’s not just about – about what we want, it’s about what’s good for us. If we – if we can take this step. Without feeling…”

“Tara.” Willow took her hand. “I trust you.”

There was a moment of silence.

Willow looked anxious, but not – not panicked. As if whatever answer Tara would give, she would accept it.

“If I said it’s not mutual…” Tara tried.

Hurt briefly crossed Willow’s face, but she shook it off. “Then we leave this as it is. We, uh, we have time, right? And I wouldn’t want to do this if you don’t, if you don’t – don’t feel comfortable with me?”

Tara nodded, seriously.

Willow sighed and closed her eyes. “So I suppose we should – ”

“I trust you.”

Willow’s eyes snapped open. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Tara gave her a crooked, slightly nervous smile. “I do. I think I – I still may have moments where I start doubting. And I don’t know if that’s ever really going to go away.”

Willow nodded, eyes fixed on Tara.

“But right now? Yes. I trust you, and I love you, and I want this. With you.”

Willow made a tiny noise, then grabbed Tara’s face and pulled her into a kiss.

Tara could feel the energy gathering around them. She sank down on the blanket, held her hands out for Willow. As soon as their hands linked, the magic flowed through and around them.

For a moment they just held it. The earth beneath them, the forest around them, the sky above and the fire through it all. Cradling them.

“See,” Tara said softly. “This is good.”

Willow smiled, eyes closed, riding the wave of magic.

Every nerve in Tara’s body seemed to tingle, with the magic, with Willow’s nearness.

She’d wanted this for ages. Oh, who was she trying to kid; she’d never stopped wanting this, not since the first time Willow and she had touched hands in the laundry room.

She let out a shivering breath. A cocoon of warmth and silence was wrapped around them, the heat of the fire spread open and the air pulled tight. Surrounded by the dark night around them, it felt incredibly intimate.

Tara pulled Willow on top of her. She carefully worked her hands between them, finding Willow’s zip and working her way through layers of fabric until she felt skin.

Willow copied her. No magic, just human fumbling, until they were pressed together, skin to skin. Tara wrapped her arms around Willow’s back and pulled close, nuzzling underneath Willow’s jaw and letting strands of Willow’s hair caress her cheek.

Willow’s clever fingers found their way to Tara’s side, stroking and tickling. Tara panted, then gently nipped at Willow’s neck. Willow jolted in her arms, laughed.

Gods, how she’d missed this.

Willow pressed a soft kiss against Tara’s throat. “You okay, baby?” she whispered.

In reply Tara grabbed Willow’s face and pulled her in for a heated kiss. When they broke off, Willow was panting too.

Tara took Willow’s hand and pulled it down, over her stomach to her thighs. Willow kissed her again, sweetly and gently, her fingers slowly rubbing against Tara’s cunt.

As far as sex went, it was clumsy and simple. But she wanted this, like this, pressed as close together as they could, the coats and sweaters still protecting them from the outside world.

Tara threw her head back as Willow’s fingers curled inside. Willow gave her an impish grin. Tara gasped, then grabbed the back of Willow’s head and pulled her into another kiss. She traced Willow’s shoulder, found the curve of her breast and thumbed at her nipple until Willow started squirming too.

She hadn’t forgotten about this. Sure, it was a long while ago, but she still remembered it all – the feel of Willow’s skin, the noises she made, the way she tilted her hips up and laughed and smiled…

And she remembered pretty well how Willow liked to be touched, too.

Willow gasped when Tara worked her hand into Willow’s jeans. It took a moment before she found a comfortable position, and even then it was difficult. But it was worth it, to have Willow this close, to feel every gasp and sigh she gave at each movement of Tara’s fingers.

Tara pushed up onto her elbow and threw her free arm around Willow’s shoulder. Willow’s hand was on her cheek, pulling her into kiss after kiss. She was starting to shake – no, Willow was – no, that was her – everything becoming blurred –

She yelled when the orgasm hit her, pulling Willow as close as possible, hip to stomach to chest, seeing her reaction and feeling it too, and feeding her own pleasure into that connection until her vision was tinting red around the edges, too much to handle, too much –

And then it faded.

Tara collapsed back, Willow on top of her.

For a while, all she did was breathe. She could still feel that connection with Willow, more sedate and muted now but still _there_.

“Sorry,” Willow whispered after a moment.

“Don’t be.”

“I didn’t mean to – ”

“It’s fine,” Tara said, eyes closed. If there ever was a time she didn’t mind sharing her feelings, it was during sex. “We’re – we’re going to have to work on that, though.”

“I look forward to it,” Willow said, laughter in her voice.

Tara looked up. The moon was full. She could almost feel her blood ebb and flow in response.

Willow’s head was a warm reassuring weight on her chest. Tara idly ran her fingers through Willow’s hair, much like she’d do with a cat.

She could still feel Willow’s power crackling through the air.

Willow.

Her Willow. Her Willow, who was terrifying and dorky and powerful and shy and furious and kind all at once. Who could lay waste to hordes of demons with a twitch of her little finger but who couldn’t flip a pancake. Who was darkness and light and everything inbetween, who balanced between the two the best she could.

The Goddess was all and the Goddess was in all, but Tara had never quite felt it to the extent she did with Willow.

“Tara?”

“Yes?” she asked softly.

“What are you thinking?”

“You could just find out,” Tara suggested.

“I wouldn’t,” Willow said. “Ever again.”

“I know.” She stroked Willow’s hair. “Sorry, I know.”

Willow pressed a small kiss against Tara’s collarbone. Tara stroked Willow’s hair.

“You wanted to know what I was thinking about?”

“If you – if you want to share?” Willow said, careful and gentle.

Tara turned her head. The firelight was flickering on Willow’s flame-red hair, and the moon reflecting off the snow made her skin glow.

Tara smiled.

“I was thinking about how beautiful you are.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
